


A Helping Hand

by one_soul



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_soul/pseuds/one_soul
Summary: King Laurent navigates the uncharted waters of friendship





	1. Chapter 1

A month of celebration followed Laurent’s ascension.

Countless feasts and banquets had been planned to coincide with the opening of the new palace on the border. It was halfway between Marlas and Ravenel, built on the ruins of an old Artesian fort. The stonemasons had worked tirelessly, and although large parts of it were still under construction the kings had moved in the day after the ascension. It was their home now, and they welcomed nobility from far and wide to come witness their joy.

They had earned it, Laurent knew. It was a time of rest, before the difficult task of uniting two nations began. He should be celebrating, and instead he had spent the better part of his morning reading over old transcripts from council meetings.

He had always had a restless mind.

Laurent put his scroll down and sighed. Moats of dust floated in the bright sunlight from the window. His shoulder was a dull ache.

One of the first things he had done when they started work on the new palace was to commission a library. It was his most private abode, except for every sixth day, when it was opened to all. It was the first public library of its kind. 

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Laurent said. His guard entered with a bow.

“A messenger from Prince Torveld of Patras is here.”

Laurent blinked. From what he knew, Torveld had already left to return home. He nodded, and a familiar figure entered the room.

Erasmus bowed, and did not prostrate himself on the floor. His neck was bare and he wore no cuffs on his wrists.

“Your Majesty,” he said, eyes lowered. The new title was a warm prickle at the base of Laurent’s throat.

“Erasmus. You are looking well.”

“Thank you. This – ” he started, then caught himself. “I am well. Prince Torveld has been kind to me.”

“I am glad,” Laurent said. He gazed lingered on Erasmus’ wrists. “He has freed you. If he is so kind, then why have you left his service?”

Erasmus flushed. “It is – temporary. I wish to serve another master for a time.”

Laurent said nothing. Erasmus looked up and met his gaze. From him, it was almost bold.

“I wish to serve you, King Laurent. If you will have me.”

Laurent shifted just slightly. Suddenly his day had become a lot more interesting.

“Why?” he asked.

“In Arles, when you gifted me to Prince Torveld – you saved me, and I wish to repay that favour.”

“You do not need to repay me, Erasmus.”

“I want to.” This new, daring Erasmus was nothing short of delightful. Laurent raised an eyebrow.

“It was Damen who begged for your release. I only got involved in a play against my uncle’s pet.”

“Nicaise,” Erasmus said softly. Laurent’s lashes flickered – of course, Erasmus would remember his tormentors. Laurent looked at him, and refused to betray any feeling at the mention of that name.

Erasmus lifted his chin. “Nicaise was kind. He interrupted more than once when I was being harassed, ostensibly to use me for his own entertainment. But he never did anything cruel to me. Once he brought me a sweetmeat.”

Laurent’s throat tightened. He realised Erasmus did not know his true feelings for Nicaise, and that to speak in defence of someone Laurent apparently disliked was an exceedingly brave move. It was refreshing, and wonderful, and if he were the crying type he might have sobbed.

“Yes,” Laurent said after a long pause. “Nicaise had a strong sense of justice.”

The look on Erasmus’ face changed. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head over Laurent’s boot.

“Please allow me to serve you. You may ask anything of me. You may keep me as near or as far as you like. Just please – ”

“Why?” Laurent asked again. Erasmus looked up at him with those liquid gold eyes.

“Because you are kind and honest and just, and I wish to learn from you.”

The confession had an odd effect on Laurent. He felt himself flush, and struggled to keep his breathing even. 

He was unaccustomed to such open, artless adoration from anyone but Damen. There was no falsehood in Erasmus’ face, no reason for him to lie or flatter. Erasmus saw him in a way nobody else did. Even Damen – his love, his everything – had struggled to peel back his defensive layers and find someone worth loving underneath. Erasmus seemed to have no concept of those layers at all. 

“You may serve me,” Laurent said. “For a period of six months, after which you will be free to either return to Patras or stay on as my assistant. Can you read and write?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Erasmus looked overjoyed. “I was trained in Akielon, Patran and Vaskian.”

Laurent nodded. “You will receive lessons in Veretian. You will learn the category of each book and script in this library, and maintain its records. You will monitor and answer the queries of all those who wish to use this library. In addition to that you will assist me however I see fit.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Erasmus was practically glowing.

“For your service you will receive a copper sol each month.”

Erasmus’ joy clouded with confusion. “Majesty?”

Laurent leveled him with a serious look. “You are neither my slave nor my servant, Erasmus. You will be my assistant, and that position commands a salary just like any other job.”

His eyes flooded and Erasmus lowered his head, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

“Now,” Laurent said, turning back to the scrolls he had been reading. “You can start by helping me sort through these old council meetings. My uncle loved to talk and if he weren’t already dead these transcripts alone might drive me to murder.”

\- - -

Damen found them some time later. The sun was setting and haloed him in the doorway like some fallen demi-god.

Erasmus just barely stopped himself from falling to his knees at the sight of him.

“Exalted,” he breathed.

“Erasmus,” Damen looked surprised. “It is good to see you again. I thought Torveld had already left?”

“Erasmus has chosen to stay behind in my service for some time,” Laurent said. Damen’s mouth opened in understanding. Then he grinned.

“Is that so? Playing favorites Erasmus?”

“Exalted!” Erasmus gasped. “It would be the highest honour to serve you – you have only to command me – ”

Damen cut him off with a laugh. “It’s alright, I would choose him too. Serving me would probably involve a lot of running around and swinging heavy things.”

“Yes, we don’t want to make it too easy for him,” Laurent said silkily. Damen gave him an amused look.

“I came to fetch you for dinner.” 

“Already? We had just gotten to the sixth meeting about raising wheat prices in Lys.”

“You are a menace,” Damen said, moving closer. “This is a month of celebration in your honour and you are here reading dusty old transcripts for god knows what nefarious reason – ”

“How dare you speak to me thus,” Laurent said, overbrimming with delight. “I am a king.”

Damen slid a hand in his hair and kissed him, a hot, firm sort of kiss that immediately wiped all thought from Laurent’s mind. He arched into it and opened his mouth.

He remembered Erasmus only when Damen pulled away.

“Shall I attend you before dinner?” Damen asked, voice heavy with suggestion.

Laurent was having trouble with his breathing. “I’m sure Erasmus can manage,” he said.

Damen narrowed his eyes at Erasmus, who quickly folded himself to the floor with a squeak. Laurent laughed.

“Stand down. I will not allow you to intimidate my new assistant.” 

“He is very pretty,” Damen pointed out.

“Yes, but I am not the one with a fetish for blondes.”

Sufficiently mollified, Damen left them to prepare for dinner, although not before kissing Laurent until he was flushed and breathless. 

Erasmus had a small smile on his lips as he helped Laurent into more dinner-appropriate attire.

\- - -

They fell into a routine.

Laurent found a tutor for Erasmus, and after his morning lessons they would meet in the library for whatever tasks Laurent had decided on that day. He was still raking through meeting notes. Erasmus didn’t ask him why, simply followed his instructions. 

Some days Laurent didn’t have time for the library, and would take Erasmus with him to council rooms, hunts and feasts. People were quick to comment on his newly acquired shadow. Not all of them were polite about it.

“King Laurent,” a drunk Veretian courtier bowed sloppily to him after dinner one night. 

“Gabriel of Barbin,” Laurent said. “It appears you have had enough to drink.”

“This Akielon swill is truly superb,” Gabriel said. “What is it called?”

“It is griva,” Laurent said.

“And who is this beautiful creature?” Gabriel’s green eyes lit on Erasmus, seated just beside Laurent on a cushion. “Who knew your taste in pets was so impeccable.” 

Laurent opened his mouth to reply, but Gabriel was already reaching out to touch Erasmus, who could not control his wide-eyed flinch as the Veretian slid a hand up his thigh. Laurent’s hand shot out and took Gabriel’s wrist in an iron grip.

“Erasmus is no pet. And you would do well to keep your hands to yourself, or the Councilor of Barbin will find himself in need of a new heir.”

His voice was icy steel, and Gabriel went pale. He stumbled back with a muttered apology and disappeared into the crowd.

Erasmus was breathing very fast and did not respond even when Laurent said his name softly. Damen was talking to Nikandros on the other side of the room, and Laurent caught his eye as he rose. The herald announced that King Laurent was retiring, and the room bowed, and Damen gave him a quizzical look. Laurent’s eyes flickered to Erasmus.

He led the former slave to his own chambers, rather than the room Erasmus had been given. He sat Erasmus down on the bed and fetched him a glass of water.

Erasmus drank it in one big gulp and seemed to come back to himself. His eyes widened and he almost dropped the cup.

“Majesty,” he gasped. “I apologise – you didn’t have to – ”

“It’s all right Erasmus,” Laurent said. He unpinned his cloak and put his crown in its golden box. “Unlace me?”

Erasmus rose quickly to do his bidding. He had figured out Veretian lacing in record time, and soon had Laurent out of his jacket and vest. Left in only a comfortable white undershirt and pants, Laurent drew off his boots and padded over to the bed with his own glass of water. After a moment of hesitation Erasmus joined him.

“You do not like to be touched,” Laurent said. Erasmus flushed.

“It’s not – I am not opposed to being touched. I think it was – the Veretian. It took me back.”

“Ah,” Laurent took a sip of water. “I am Veretian,” he pointed out.

“You are different,” Erasmus whispered. 

“I do not make you uncomfortable?” He had to be sure.

“Never,” Erasmus said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I feel safest by your side.”

Now Erasmus was not the only one blushing. Laurent put his water aside.

“I will punish Gabriel of Barbin in the morning,” he said.

Erasmus shook his head. “Please – please don’t. I don’t want to cause any trouble. He was so drunk he probably won’t even remember.”

There was a knock on the door and Damen entered. Erasmus ducked his head in deference, but did not jump to his feet and bow. Baby steps.

“Is everything okay?” Damen asked. “I saw Gabriel storm out of the hall not long ago.”

“He made a pass at Erasmus which was unwelcome,” Laurent said. Damen’s face darkened. 

“I will handle it,” Laurent said. Damen looked at him, then nodded and went to pour himself a glass of wine. He leaned against the desk as he drank, and for a moment Laurent could picture what he saw – he and Erasmus on the bed, himself unlaced and Erasmus in a short chiton, the twin embodiments of Damen’s desire. Laurent smirked.

“See something you like?” he asked.

“I always like looking at you,” Damen said. It was that serious, unexpected sweetness that always caught Laurent off guard, and he ducked his head. There was a soft laugh from beside him.

“Are you shy, Majesty?” Erasmus said.

“Don’t be absurd,” Laurent lifted his head.

“Your cheeks are pink.”

“It is the weather.”

Damen was watching them with some unfathomable look in his eyes. He came over and slowly, carefully, curled his fingers under Erasmus’ chin and lifted his face up. 

“Erasmus,” he said. “We did a great disservice by enslaving you. I am sorry for that.” 

The shock of having a king apologise to him rendered Erasmus mute for several minutes. He stared at Damen with his mouth open.

“There is nothing to forgive, Exalted,” he said at last.

“There is,” Damen said. “I would have your pardon, if you will give it.”

Erasmus closed his eyes and let his lips part. Laurent’s pulse skipped a beat. He had read of this custom, though never seen it in practice. In Akielos, a formal apology was sealed with a kiss.

Their lips touched in a kiss that slowly deepened. Damen’s hand curled in Erasmus’ hair. From his vantage point Laurent could see his tongue dip into that soft pink mouth.

When they drew apart Erasmus had the same dazed look on his face Laurent knew must be on his own every time Damen kissed him. Damen reached for him, and around his lover’s familiar taste Laurent thought he detected the sweet flavor of some unknown fruit. 

Damen bore him down on the bed, kissing him harder, his hands under Laurent’s shirt. Around his rising arousal Laurent felt the bed shift, and reached out to touch Erasmus. Their eyes met.

“You can stay,” he said. “If you want to.” 

Erasmus hesitated, then sank back against the bed and curled into Laurent’s side. Laurent put a hand in his golden curls and turned his head as Damen pressed kisses to his throat.

It put his face very close to Erasmus’, those gold-flecked eyes looking at him calmly.

“I have only ever kissed one man,” Laurent found himself confessing.

“Kissing is important,” Erasmus said. “More important than sex.”

Laurent’s breath hitched. He had never met someone who had the same thoughts as him on this.

“May I kiss you?” Erasmus whispered. 

Damen lifted his face curiously. Laurent looked at him, then back at Erasmus.

“Yes,” he said. 

When Erasmus kissed him Laurent tasted apricots.

\- - -

In the morning he woke up tangled around Erasmus.

Damen was pinning his chiton and looking at them with dark eyes when Laurent lifted his head.

“I am the luckiest man alive,” Damen said. Laurent laughed and let his head fall back.

“Where are you going?” he asked. Erasmus shifted in his sleep and made a sound.

Damen grimaced. “Breakfast with the Kyros of Thrace. I suddenly have the urge to double his taxes.”

“Hang the Kyros of Thrace. Come back to bed.”

Damen hummed under his breath and kissed him.

“We will talk about last night when I get back,” he said.

“Which part? The bit where I fucked Erasmus while he sucked you or the one where you fucked me while I kissed him?” 

“I am serious Laurent,” Damen said, although there was a charming blush on his cheeks. Laurent kissed him again. 

“Go. We will talk later.”

Damen dropped one last kiss on his lips and left. 

In the warm morning light Laurent stroked a hand down Erasmus’ back, then lower, where his scars were. Erasmus had begged for him last night, despite Laurent’s assurances that they needn’t do anything but kiss. He had begged for Damen too, who had treated him with the same tender care he took with Laurent. 

It was a while before Erasmus stirred, and when he opened his eyes and saw Laurent there he smiled.

“Majesty,” Erasmus murmured. Laurent almost laughed.

“We have fucked. I think you can call me Laurent now.”

“I cannot,” Erasmus said. 

They were kissing without thinking, small, soft pecks that left Laurent’s cheeks heated. They moved together, pleasure rising, then Erasmus slid down his body and took Laurent in his mouth. He was exceptionally gifted at this, taking him down his throat with ease. Heat flooded Laurent, and he found himself making soft, gasping sounds until he released into Erasmus’ mouth with a moan. 

Erasmus swallowed and rested his head on Laurent’s stomach, breathing hard.

“Did you want – ” Laurent started.

Erasmus blushed. “I – uh – while I was – ”

Laurent blinked. Then he laughed, a helpless sound that was definitely not a giggle.

“Really? While you sucked me?”

Erasmus swatted his thigh in embarrassment and Laurent laughed again.

Eventually they rose and bathed, and then Erasmus helped lace Laurent up into one of his more severe jackets. He had a verbal thrashing to dole out.

Later that day, Gabriel of Barbin found himself summoned to the kings’ audience chamber to receive a very public royal pardon. This was both merciful and humiliating, as the details of his unwanted advances the night before became fodder for court gossip and mockery. He returned to his home in disgrace.

Nobody tried to touch Erasmus again.

\- - -

“I am jealous of Erasmus,” Damen said.

So they were going to talk about it now. Laurent rolled over and looked at him. Moonlight slid over the handsome planes of Damen’s face.

“You kissed him first.”

“That was an apology,” Damen said, affronted.

Laurent fought a smile.

“You spend a lot of time with him lately,” Damen said after a long silence.

Laurent hummed and trailed a finger up Damen’s thick bicep. 

“His company is agreeable. After all he has never killed any of my family members.”

“Laurent,” Damen sounded pained. Laurent lifted himself up and smiled down at him.

“Are you worried sweet Erasmus will steal me away from you?” he asked. Damen’s hands clutched his hips.

“No,” he said, but it wasn’t very convincing. Laurent dipped his head and kissed Damen’s mouth.

“I love you,” he said. “Nobody can ever replace you.”

Damen rolled them with a groan and took Laurent’s mouth. Kissing turned to rutting, and rutting led to their clothes being tugged off and flung away. Laurent spread his legs and gasped when Damen fucked into him.

“My wonderful brute,” he groaned. 

“Laurent,” Damen gasped into his neck. His hips moved, and deep, hot pleasure spread through Laurent. He lost himself to the sensation of it, forgot to think, forgot everything but the shape of Damen’s name and the huge, all-encompassing feeling in his chest. Their lips met, and Damen murmured something incoherent into his mouth, and then he was coming in hot, thick spurts inside him. His hand closed around Laurent’s cock and stroked him to completion and Laurent shuddered and shuddered under him, his face buried in Damen’s shoulder.

Afterwards, when they had cleaned up and curled around each other, Laurent smiled hazily at his lover.

“I love this feeling,” he said.

“Hm?” Damen was tracing his shoulder. “Which feeling?”

“The feeling after coming.” 

He felt foolish as soon as it left his mouth. Most people would not marvel at the post-coital bliss that followed an orgasm. Most people were used to it. He waited to see if Damen would laugh at him.

Damen didn’t laugh. He pressed a kiss to Laurent’s hair and cuddled him closer.

“Describe it to me,” he said.

“It’s like – a tingling at the tips of my fingers. All my limbs feel loose and relaxed, and my mind is at ease. And it feels so good to touch you and feel your skin. I want to touch you forever.”

Damen kissed his cheek and touched him all over.

“You are wondrous,” he breathed. “Tell Erasmus if he ever so much as causes a frown on your face I will kill him.”

Laurent buried a laugh in his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

He had forgotten.

Laurent hurried down the hallway, guilt clawing at his throat.

He had completely forgotten. There was a surprise delegation from Vask, and then there had been an incident with a horse throwing a soldier. The man had hit his head and died, and Laurent and Damen had gone to see his widow. His day had been chaos, and he had forgotten that he told Erasmus to meet him in the library several hours ago.

Erasmus would still be there waiting for him. He knew it as surely as day followed night. Laurent walked as fast as his feet would carry him without actually running. It was unkingly to run in the palace.

The library was dark and quiet, and in a windowseat towards the back Laurent found Erasmus curled up fast asleep. 

Laurent crouched down and touched a finger to the stray curl on Erasmus’ forehead. He was even prettier in sleep. Laurent untied his cloak and spread it over him.

He lit candles and sat down at his desk with a sigh. Transcripts. Endless transcripts with no result in sight except a headache every night. Laurent was pulling a scroll towards him when he heard a moan.

Erasmus was twitching in his sleep. He gasped, fingers curling, and a violent shudder went through him. Beads of sweat appeared at his temple. 

“No,” he whimpered. 

He thrashed and jerked upright. “Kallias!” 

For a moment he stared unseeingly into the darkness, breathing hard. Then his vision cleared and he saw Laurent looking at him. He flushed.

“Majesty,” he said. “I apologise. I fell asleep while waiting for you.”

He looked down and seemed to notice the cloak covering him for the first time. His blush deepened.

“Who is Kallias?” Laurent asked.

Erasmus gave him a startled look. He licked his lips.

“Nobody,” he said.

“He is not nobody,” Laurent said. Erasmus’ hand tightened on the cloak.

“Prince Torveld has been very kind to me,” Erasmus whispered. There was a pause. Laurent rose and poured a cup of water. He brought it over to Erasmus and sat beside him.

“Torveld is not here,” he said, drawing a leg up and leaning back against the window. He watched Erasmus from under his lashes, waiting.

Erasmus drank the water and silent tears spilled down his face, and then with a hiccup the story of Kallias came pouring out with them. He told Laurent about the blue-eyed slave who betrayed him and saved him, who stole his first kiss and his heart. The candles burned low, and eventually Erasmus talked himself into silence.

“Is he alive?” Laurent asked.

“I don’t know. I am afraid to know,” Erasmus said.

“I didn’t think you were afraid of much anymore.” 

Erasmus gave him a startled look. Laurent stared out the window, into the dark night beyond.

“I used to be afraid. Fear is a well – it drags you deeper and deeper until you forget what light and air and goodness look like.”

Erasmus swallowed. “What were you afraid of?” he asked.

Laurent met his golden eyes and was quiet for a long time.

“My uncle liked young boys. After Auguste died there was nobody left to protect me from him.”

Erasmus blanched. He had experienced true horrors in his life, but this had shaken even him.

“H-how did you stop being afraid?”

Laurent looked away. A smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Damen reached down and pulled me out.”

He stood up and held a hand out. 

Erasmus took it, and Laurent led him through the palace to his rooms. Damen was already asleep, and when they crawled in beside him he curled his large arms around both of them and held them close.

\- - -

“Shall we go to Ios?” Laurent said.

Erasmus looked up from the scroll in his hand. 

“Why?” he asked.

Laurent lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Damen misses it and I am sick of entertaining nobles. I want to run away in the night and leave them all bleating here waiting for our return.”

Erasmus shook with laughter. “You cannot do that. It is irresponsible.”

“I am a young king. I can do what I want.” 

Erasmus gave him an amused look and went back to his scroll. Laurent watched him for a while before speaking again.

“I think Kallias is alive.”

Erasmus tensed instantly. When he looked at Laurent again his gaze was guarded. 

“I remember the days after I killed Kastor,” Laurent continued. “We tried to minimize the bloodshed, especially amongst his slaves. Kallias would not have been harmed unless he tried to fight for Kastor, and if he is the person you describe I cannot imagine him fighting for a man like that – ”

“Kallias would not fight,” Erasmus said, his tone harsh. “He is a slave.”

“Yes,” Laurent said. “And that.”

“I do not wish to speak of Kallias,” Erasmus said.

“I wish to speak of him.”

Erasmus’ jaw tightened. He would not disobey a direct order from his king, but he made his displeasure clear by retreating to the windowseat furthest from Laurent. It pleased Laurent that he had even dared.

“Why don’t you want to see Kallias?” Laurent asked.

“Why are you wasting our time going through these transcripts?” Erasmus said.

Laurent knew that if Erasmus had not been angry with him he never would have phrased the question so rudely. These days, nobody spoke to him like that except Damen.

He rose from his desk and came to stand beside Erasmus at the window.

“I am wasting our time,” Laurent said. “Because I am looking for a precedent which will allow me to marry King Damianos.”

Erasmus opened and closed his mouth several times. “I – didn’t realise it would be a problem.”

“It is a problem because the union of two kings cannot produce any heirs, and the Veretian Council will never accept a bastard on the throne. I must convince them, through logic and reason and most importantly through legal precedence, that the matter of an heir should not stop me from marrying the love of my life. This is why I am wasting our time.”

Erasmus bowed his head. The anger drained from him as quickly as it had come.

“I am afraid to see Kallias because I think he will hate me,” he said.

“Why would he hate you?”

“I have lived the life he dreamed of. I have travelled to distant lands and been in the beds of princes and kings while he was left behind in Ios – if he is even still there. I left him behind. I would hate me.”

Laurent stared at him. “Erasmus. You were taken against your will to a land where you were tortured and raped. It was not some idyllic holiday. Do not minimize what was done to you in Arles.”

Pain filled Erasmus’ face. He looked away and covered his mouth with one hand. 

Laurent drifted closer before he realised what he was doing. He put his arms around Erasmus’ seated form and let him rest his head on his stomach. He had done this once before, for Damen, and the feeling now was the same and yet profoundly different. He put a hand on Erasmus’ golden curls and felt his body relax against him.

“I do not know the name of this feeling,” Laurent said after a while. “When I am with you I feel like my most honest self. I want to tell you things just for the sake of sharing them. I want to do things for you I would only ever do for Damen.”

Erasmus choked on a laugh. “I think that is called friendship, Majesty.”

Friendship. Laurent could not recall ever having a friend before. Auguste had been his brother, and Damen was his lover. Neither of those quite fit into the category of friend. It was a warm, sweet kind of feeling, like swallowing a honey cake. He wanted it to last forever.

“Erasmus,” Laurent said after a while. “Are you making fun of me?”

\- - -

They left for Ios the following month – not in the middle of the night, as Laurent had longed to, but in broad daylight with a royal procession, after the celebrations were over and all the nobles had returned to their homes.

Damen rode ahead like an excited youth, goading Nikandros into a race, then circling back around to grin at Laurent once he won. Laurent simply raised an eyebrow at him.

Erasmus rode beside him on a sweet-tempered mare. He was still a novice rider and stuck close to Laurent for the journey. 

It took them over a week to reach Ios, the royal party having to make various stops along the way to greet their people. Most towns met them with cheers and exaltation. Some, however, still looked at Laurent with clear hostility. 

"It will take time," he said. Damen was pacing their room in agitation. There had been an incident earlier that day when a boy had thrown a rotten fruit their way. It missed and he fled before the guards could catch him, but it had struck a sour cord. 

"It might take generations," Damen said. He stopped and faced Laurent. "Are you sure you are prepared for that?"

Laurent leaned back on the bed and regarded him quietly. They were staying at a small fort for the night. The lodgings were humble but adequate. 

"Vere is the same, except that instead of throwing fruit they will simply try to poison you."

"Nobody is going to poison me," Damen waved a dismissive hand.

Laurent's shoulder ached. "It is not a question of if, but when."

There was a knock on the door and Erasmus entered with a bow.

"Dinner is ready, my kings," he said.

Damen and Laurent exchanged a look. Neither of them were in the mood for a public appearance.

"We will eat in our rooms," Damen said. Erasmus bowed in understanding. "And Erasmus? Fetch Nikandros. The two of you may join us."

Dinner was a comfortable and intimate affair. Erasmus sat beside Laurent on the bed, and Laurent occasionally fed him the way one would a pet. Nikandros raised an eyebrow.

"Jealous?" Laurent said. "Come sit beside me and I can feed you too."

Nikandros snorted. "If only our public knew how liberal King Laurent is with his affections."

"I am very loving," Laurent nodded.

"Maybe try sharing that with more than two people at a time."

"Most people do not warrant my affections, Nikandros," Laurent said sweetly. "You should count yourself lucky."

"I am both terrified and honoured."

"Are you two fighting or flirting?" Damen asked around a mouthful of bread. Nikandros looked offended. 

"Damen, I would never -"

"Yes," Laurent said. Damen gave him a look. Erasmus giggled.

They drank wine and talked deep into the night, mulling over strategies to win the public over and teasing Nikandros about when he would marry. Erasmus dared to lay his head in Laurent's lap and Laurent allowed it.

"Makedon has a daughter of suitable age," Laurent said. Nikandros choked on his wine. 

"She raises hounds and is a great huntress," Laurent continued. 

"She sounds wonderful, but the thought of having Makedon as a father in law is..." Nikandros trailed off as Damen laughed.

"Makedon is a great man," Laurent said, smiling lazily. He'd had a full glass of wine and was feeling warm. “He is the uncle I truly deserved. Ha, ha."

The laughter disappeared from Damen's face. Nikandros gave him a puzzled look but Damen shook his head.

Nikandros was an astute man. He rose to his feet and bid them goodnight, clasping Damen's hand briefly before leaving.

Erasmus was asleep in his lap. Laurent brushed a curl off his forehead and traced the straight line of his nose.

"I told him about my uncle," Laurent said. He saw the shock cross Damen's face. They had spoken of this only briefly and it had been the most difficult conversation of his life. He knew that any time Damen thought of his uncle he wanted to maim things and it had put them both on edge. 

It had not been like that with Erasmus. When he told Erasmus they had been sharing traumas.

"I am glad," Damen said. "That you have found someone to trust besides me."

"I trust Nikandros," Laurent said.

"Does he know that?" Damen asked, amused.

"Please don't tell Nikandros I like him. It will ruin all the fun."

Damen laughed softly and rose to prepare for sleep. Laurent was left in the awkward position of easing Erasmus onto the bed. He stirred and looked around.

"I can leave -" he mumbled.

"Shh. Sleep," Laurent said. Erasmus drifted off again and Laurent touched his back before rising to undress.

He gasped at the sharp pull at his shoulder. It had been a dull ache all day and was now a full-fledged throb. Damen touched him gently.

"Lay down," he said. "I will massage you."

Laurent lay down on his stomach beside Erasmus, who curled towards him instinctively. Damen found oils and straddled his back.

"Take your shirt off," his voice was soft, hypnotic, and Laurent reached a hand back and drew his bedshirt off. It left him naked, which was always a nice feeling when he was under Damen.

Damen massaged his neck first, kneading carefully with his big soft hands. Laurent made a sound and melted into the bed.

"You are good at that," he murmured.

"You're so tense," Damen said, moving to his shoulder. "I will massage you more often."

"You will spoil me," Laurent said, voice hazy with pleasure. He felt himself stir and pushed closer to Erasmus, burying his face in soft golden curls.

"Good," there was a smile in Damen's voice. "You deserve to be spoilt a little. "

Laurent hummed and floated for a while as Damen steadily moved down his back. Laurent unraveled under his hands, barely aware of the soft murmurs he was making into Erasmus' hair.

Damen reached the curve of his ass and squeezed. Almost lazily, Laurent drew his knees forward and arched his back, a clear invitation. Damen laughed.

"Really? With Erasmus sleeping beside you?" 

"He won't mind," Laurent smirked over his shoulder. Damen put both hands on his cheeks and massaged, pulling them apart and then closer again. The sensation was oddly pleasant.

Laurent was fully roused when Damen lowered his face and licked at his core. His loud gasp woke Erasmus.

"What -" Erasmus started, and then realised where Damen's face was. He blushed prettily, and Laurent couldn't resist kissing him. He muffled his moans in Erasmus' mouth as Damen licked and licked and pushed his tongue inside, making Laurent's toes curl. 

"Ah," Laurent sighed. "Fuck me, Damianos." 

"Yes, Your Majesty," Damen surfaced with a grin and smacked his ass.

By the time Damen pushed into him Laurent was panting into Erasmus' neck. Erasmus stroked his hair and kissed him as Damen started to thrust. He rode Laurent hard, harder than they had done before, and Laurent felt himself turn to liquid gold under his touch. He reached down and pushed up under Erasmus' chiton and took him in hand. He was hard silk and beading at the tip. It was pleasant to touch him while being fucked, and Laurent smiled as Erasmus whimpered in his ear.

Laurent growled in protest when Damen pulled out and flipped him over. Damen took hold of his legs and pushed back into him. It changed the angle he was thrusting at and Laurent arched as sparks spread through his body. Damen kissed his calf. 

His hand had fallen off Erasmus with the change in position, and Laurent reached for him again. Erasmus pushed closer, lowering his head to kiss his way down Laurent’s torso. He took Laurent down his throat and Laurent almost cried out. His grip on Erasmus tightened and he stroked, until he felt Erasmus moan helplessly and spill into his hand. The assault of sensations was too much for Laurent and moments later he orgasmed with a gasp.

"Don't swallow," Damen managed to grunt out before he too was coming in a rush. Erasmus drew off Laurent with his cheeks puffed and, panting, Damen beckoned him closer.

Damen kissed Erasmus, pushing his mouth open and taking Laurent's come from him. A tremor of shock went through Laurent. He had seen every manner of debauchery regularly played out in the court of Arles and this was surpassing all of them. It was filthy and intimate and arousing. A dribble of seed spilled out of the corner of Erasmus' mouth. 

Damen drew back and swallowed, his dark eyes fixed on Laurent. He smirked at the look on Laurent's face.

"You taste good," he said.

"Filthy barbarian," Laurent said, eye alight with desire, and let Damen crush him in a kiss.

\- - -

They rode into Ios on a sunny day. Crowds gathered to welcome the newly crowned kings, and children strewed the streets with flowers. It was the kind of reception that made the heart swell with hope.

Laurent remained impassive while Damen cheerfully waved to the crowd, dimple flashing. But he lagged behind everyone else, and by the time he made it to the palace his horse's mane was woven through with flowers from the city children. Damen grinned at him. 

"Suddenly you are so popular. It must be the new horse," he teased.

"The children love him," Erasmus said. He had stayed by Laurent's side while he was mobbed by tiny Akielons. "They have given him a nickname because his name is too difficult to pronounce."

There was a blush high on Laurent's cheeks. Damen looked delighted.

"A nickname! What is it?"

"It is silly," Laurent said.

"They call him Star King," Erasmus said, voice fond. 

"Star King," Damen sighed. "It is perfect."

"It suits him," Erasmus agreed. 

"You are both ridiculous." Nobody was listening to Laurent.

"They have one for you too, Exalted."

"Oh?"

"You are the Sun King."

Damen looked like he might burst from happiness. He caught Laurent around the waist as soon as they were in their rooms.

"We are the sun and stars my love," Damen breathed in his ear. 

"Right now all we are is filthy from the road," Laurent said.

"Nonsense, you smell like roses."

"You smell like a horse."

Damen nuzzled into his neck, undeterred, until he drew a smile out of Laurent. He tilted his face up for Damen to kiss and did not see Erasmus slip away.

\- - -

He found Erasmus sitting on a bench in the old slave gardens. They had been converted into a school for former slaves to gain work skills. It was quiet - everybody was helping prepare for the kings' welcome feast.

Laurent sat beside him. He had bathed and changed into a short chiton that had made Damen's nostrils flare when he saw it. Laurent had just barely escaped with his virtue intact.

"Hello, Star King," Erasmus said.

Laurent stifled a snort. 

"These gardens are beautiful," he said. A marble fountain gurgled nearby. 

"Yes," Erasmus said. "They were made to reflect the beauty of the slaves therein."

"Do you think I would have made a good slave?" Laurent mused.

Erasmus looked at him sideways.

"You would have been," he said. "The most beautiful slave in four kingdoms. Princes would have killed each other for you. Wars would have been started for a single night in your bed."

Laurent nodded. "So a terrible slave."

"The worst," Erasmus laughed. "You would have incited us all to rebellion and had the gardens empty in a week."

"Perhaps I should have been a slave after all."

"No," Erasmus looked down. "I would not wish that on anyone."

It was a shock to hear Erasmus voice his thoughts on slavery. How far he had come in the short span of a year.

"How old were you when they brought you to the gardens?" Laurent asked.

"Nine or ten? I am not certain."

"And your family?"

"I am an orphan."

Laurent was quiet. After a while he let his hand curl around Erasmus’ on the bench.

"Me too," he said.

\- - -

Laurent insisted on dressing Erasmus in exquisite silks for dinner. His chiton was white edged in gold and Laurent called in a servant to paint his face.

"Majesty," Erasmus said, helpless at the attention. "It is not appropriate for my clothing to be finer than yours."

"Hush, she is trying to paint your lips," Laurent said. The servant finished with a flourish and stepped back.

Erasmus was beautiful. His eyes were lined in gold, his cheeks dusted gold, and his lips were a soft pink. Laurent nodded in approval.

"Adequate," he said. 

"What is?" Damen entered, wearing a chiton of pure white with a red cloak over his shoulders. The golden laurel crown of the king was nestled in his curls. He was achingly handsome.

"Your stamina," Laurent said, because he couldn't resist. He suppressed a smile at Damen's hurt look. 

"Erasmus," Damen said when he caught sight of him. "You're looking especially lovely tonight."

Erasmus blushed. "Thank you, Exalted."

"Laurent," Damen ran his gaze over Laurent's severe laced up Veretian clothing. Laurent gave him a cool look and Damen grinned. "You are the most beautiful man in the world, as always."

Damen was going to be the death of him. 

They entered the great hall of Ios side by side. Just before the door Damen held his bent arm up, and after a pause Laurent took it. The whole world knew they were lovers, but this was a pose for married couples. Laurent tried not to think about it too much.

They settled on their twin thrones, and a cushion was brought for Erasmus so that he could sit beside Laurent. He arranged himself with effortless grace and several pairs of eyes turned towards him.

Erasmus was restless throughout dinner. His eyes constantly scanned the room and he dropped several utensils. At last Laurent dropped a hand to his shoulder and Erasmus looked up at him.

“He is not here yet,” Laurent said. 

Erasmus went still. “What – ” he breathed.

“Wait.”

The space before them was being cleared for entertainments. A hush fell over the hall and a stool was placed in the center of the cleared space, signaling a musical performance. Erasmus was frozen under his hold and Laurent willed him to keep his composure.

A young man holding a kithara came forward. He was dressed in a chiton of dark blue, the colour of his eyes. Brown curls framed his beautiful face. He bowed to his kings and gracefully settled on the stool. He did not look at Erasmus.

Erasmus closed his eyes, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as the first haunting notes of the Conquest of Arsaces filled the hall. 

Laurent thought of a different night, a different hall. He thought of Erasmus singing the Conquest for them in his sweet voice. He knew what Damen had been thinking of when he requested it. 

Damen reached over and laced their hands together. Laurent shared a look with him, then focused back on the lovely kithara player. He finished the song to thunderous applause. Someone called out a request and he played a second song, and then another, and finally when it was clear that he was tiring dancers were brought in to replace him.

Erasmus got to his feet and fled to the balcony. Kallias the kithara player looked at Laurent, and Laurent inclined his head in the direction Erasmus had gone. 

Kallias went after him.

\- - -

Erasmus found him in the slave gardens the next morning. He looked calm and clean, like some great storm had swept through him. He was also, Laurent noted with some amusement, walking with a slight limp.

Erasmus sat down and just looked at him. There was an air of expectation about him and Laurent’s lips curled up in a smile.

“It took some convincing,” he said. “He was as scared as you were. More, I suspect.”

“Yes, he spent most of the night apologising to me,” Erasmus said. He gazed at Laurent for a long moment. “How did you find him?”

“I asked,” Laurent said. “At first it seemed that no slave of his description had ever set foot in Ios. The remnants of Kastor’s house are still afraid of retaliation, I think. Eventually it came out that he had left for Isthima. I summoned him to play for us.”

Erasmus let out a breath. “And last night? What did you tell him then?”

“Only what you had told me.”

Erasmus looked up at the clear blue sky. “I do not think,” he said. “That I will be returning to Bazal at the end of the summer.”

“Erasmus?” Kallias was standing at the entrance to the garden. He saw Laurent and sank into a deep bow. His manners were flawless, and speaking to him last night Laurent had been charmed by his serious and thoughtful nature. He could have easily passed for a young nobleman.

“Your Majesty,” Kallias said, straightening. “Tales of your kindness and beauty have been understated.”

Laurent huffed out a laugh. “You are bold to flatter others in the presence of your sweetheart.”

“I would never fault Kallias for speaking the truth,” Erasmus smiled at him and Laurent felt his face warm. He reached up and touched Erasmus’ cheek.

“Will you go to Isthima?” Laurent asked.

Erasmus blinked. “Are you sending me there?”

Laurent dropped his hand with a frown. “You said you will not return to Bazal. I thought – ”

“I will not return to Bazal because I wish to remain in your service permanently. If you will have me.”

Laurent swallowed around a pang of joy. He looked at Kallias, and saw the intense, hungry way he was regarding Erasmus. He had seen that look in Damen’s eyes enough to recognise it.

“I do not wish to part you two,” Laurent said carefully. “And I understand that Kallias has made some commitment in Isthima.”

Kallias lifted his chin. “I am to study medicine at the royal hospital.”

He said it with pride, and Laurent understood why – the selection process for the royal hospital was stringent and intense. They only took five students every year, and produced the physicians who saw to the royal family themselves. For someone who had been a slave less than a year ago the leap was magnificent. 

“How long will your training be?” Laurent asked.

“Two years. After that I will intern with a senior physician at the palace.”

Laurent nodded. He turned to Erasmus.

“Erasmus,” Laurent said. “I am sending you to Isthima for two years. You will continue your language education and send me monthly reports of your progress. After Kallias finishes his training, if he wishes it, he may intern with the royal physician Paschal in the new capital.”

Erasmus stared at him wordlessly for several moments. Then, throwing all propriety out the window, he flung himself into Laurent’s arms and hugged him tightly.

Unused to casual displays of affection, Laurent was stiff in his arms. Erasmus laughed and squeezed him tighter before pulling away.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and pressed a kiss to Laurent’s cheek.

Erasmus got to his feet and took Kallias’ hand. They bowed to him, murmuring obeisance.

When they were gone Laurent touched his cheek.

\- - -

“I have thought of a name for our new capital,” Laurent said. They were riding up a hill, the sea breeze playing with their clothes and hair. It was close to sunset.

Damen gave him a curious look. “Oh?”

“I think we should call it Solastra.”

Damen frowned. “What language is that?”

“It is an ancient dialect. It means sun and stars.”

The look Damen gave him was difficult to decipher. He had been acting a little odd all day – in the morning Laurent found him deep in conversation with Nikandros, which they had abruptly cut off as he approached. Damen wanted to take him riding, so they had gone first to an orange grove, where Damen had filled Laurent’s arms with more oranges than he would ever be able to eat. When Laurent pointed this out Damen smiled and shrugged and said they could distribute the fruit in the city later.

That had only been the morning. After lunch Damen had taken him to a flower field, laid him down among the poppies and daisies, and kissed him into a helpless daze. 

Finally, he had woven a laurel of flowers and leaves and presented it to Laurent with a heart-melting smile. It was still in Laurent’s hair now.

They crested the hill and a breathtaking view of the ocean opened up before them. A narrow path meandered down to the beach through the shrubbery. They tied their horses and made their way down, hand in hand. Something tugged at the back of Laurent’s mind. Beside him, Damen seemed to thrum with nervous energy.

They reached the shore, and it hit Laurent like a crashing wave. _Flowers and fruit and laurels._ The three traditional gifts. 

He stopped walking and stared at Damen.

“Damen,” he said. “Are you proposing to me?”

“Oh,” Damen looked disappointed. He scratched the back of his head. “I guess it was too much to hope you wouldn’t figure it out.”

“No,” Laurent said. 

Damen’s face fell. “No?” 

“I mean yes. But no, you cannot do it like this.”

Damen’s brow furrowed. Laurent was aware, distantly, that he was ruining this.

“The Council will not allow it. I have been scouring documents for months but there is nothing, no precedence that will allow two Kings to have a marriage void of heirs –”

“ _That’s_ why you’ve been pouring over those old transcripts? Laurent,” Damen gave a breathless laugh and took both of Laurent’s hands in his. “I have spoken to the Council.”

“You – what?” 

“I have spoken to the Council of Vere and the Kyroi of Akielos. It took some convincing, and Makedon might have threatened to bash a few heads in, but they have given permission for us to marry.”

Laurent gave a slightly hysterical laugh. 

“You just – went and spoke to them,” he said.

“Yes.”

“You want to marry me?” 

Damen’s hands tightened on his. “ _Yes._ ”

Laurent licked his lips. 

“Are you sure?”

“Laurent,” Damen groaned, and laughed, and pulled Laurent into his arms. He pressed a kiss to Laurent’s temple and spoke softly in his ear. “Nothing in this world would make me happier than marrying you. Please, please marry me Laurent. Do me the honour of being my husband.”

Laurent closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Damen and the sea.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

[ Erasmus,

Damen has proposed to me. He went to the council and demanded permission for us to marry, and against all logic it was granted. He has a knack for walking into impossible situations and emerging victorious. I do not know how he does it.

It seems that you were right after all and I was only wasting our time.

The wedding is next spring and I of course expect you and Kallias to attend. Consider this your official invitation.

It has only been a week since you left and I already miss you.

Laurent R ]

 

_[ Majesty,_

_I always suspected Damianos-Exalted might eventually take matters into his own hands. He is not the type to let others control his fate._

_You are not the type either, which makes your insistence on precedence all the more mysterious._

_Kallias asks me to convey his warmest well wishes for your upcoming nuptials. It will be a great honour for us to attend your wedding._

_I spoke in anger that time. Every moment I spent in your presence was deeply precious to me._

_Your servant,  
Erasmus ]_

 

[ Erasmus,

Your Veretian is improving, along with your perceptiveness.

I have thought sometimes, in my most private moments, that perhaps I was delaying a proposal for fear of Damen's answer.

Give Kallias my thanks.

Laurent R ]

 

_[ Majesty,_

_Surely you did not fear his rejection?_

_Exalted worships you. If you wished it I have no doubt he would have delayed the wedding indefinitely and married you in his old age when you were ready._

_Erasmus ]_

 

[ Erasmus,

You do not know the true extent of my guilt. Damen is a forgiving man - too forgiving, some might argue. ]

 

_[ Majesty,_

_I have seen Damianos-Exalted's back and heard the rumours about his scars._

_He has forgiven you. Perhaps it is time to forgive yourself._

_Your humble servant,_   
_Erasmus ]_

 

_[ Majesty,_

_A month has passed and you have not replied to my last missive._

_I have fretted, and Kallias scolded me for upsetting you._

_If I have caused offence I can only beg for your forgiveness and accept any punishment you deem suitable. I breathe at your mercy._

_Yours,_   
_Erasmus ]_

 

[ My sweet Erasmus,

You have neither offended nor upset me.

Laurent ]

[ Erasmus,

Two seasons have passed since you last wrote to me. Many nights I sat down and thought of writing back to you, of telling you that I had heeded your good advice, that for once I had some delightful confession to make to you.

Those letters would have been full of lies. I have not forgiven myself. My confessions are as dreary as ever. Truly, you deserve a more good-natured friend.

Tell me of Kallias. How are his studies progressing? Does he make love to you every night, or were my matchmaking machinations for naught? Tell me something good and true.

Yours,  
Laurent ]

 

_[ Majesty Laurent,_

_It is not a requirement of friendship that one must be good-natured at all times, or indeed ever. It is also not a requirement that a man must always heed his friends, even when they are right._

_Friendship is the freedom to be your truest self without fear of censure. You may be as dreary and self-immolating as you please, although I do not think that is your true self._

_Regardless. I do not wish to lecture you._

_Kallias excels in his studies, as expected. He was the most perfect slave the gardens ever produced. He makes love to me every night, every morning, and sometimes in between too. He makes love to me with his eyes, when he thinks I cannot see. Sometimes he is shy, and I make love to him instead._

_I did not think this happiness was for me._

_Eternally yours,_   
_Erasmus_

_P.S I would have your counsel on a delicate matter. A while ago I received a letter from Prince Torveld. He misses me and is awaiting my return. I do not know how to answer him. I have not shown the letter to Kallias. ]_

 

[ My dear Erasmus,

You are as intolerant of my needless dramatics as Damen. Thank you.

Poor Torveld. He has now lost two paramours to Akeilos. If Patras unallies from us I will not entirely blame him.

I may not be the best counsel here, for the last time Torveld turned his affections to me I dealt with it by distracting him with you. Perhaps you know of some other blonde we can now direct his way? Some willing lamb who can help him forget you?

Damen is right. I am a menace.

Perhaps you underestimate Kallias. Keeping secrets from a lover never worked out too well for me.

If you address me by my name again I will know you have grown fonder of me in the interim.

Laurent ]

 

_[ Laurent,_

_I have written to Prince Torveld that the King of Vere is a dreadful taskmaster who works me incessantly day and night. When he visits Solastra next month, do tell him where I am._

_Kallias disapproves of this plan and says that I should be honest with the Prince. As always, he is the better man._

_You said us._

_Erasmus ]_

 

[ My lovely, sweet, vicious Erasmus,

Well played. Torveld came to me in quite an indignant state, and left only slightly less indignant. I think he suspected my involvement in your defection.

And you said I would be the sort of slave who incites wars.

I did say us. I feel particularly Akielon when Damen empties in me and murmurs Akielon pet names in my ear. If I were a woman I think I would happily bear him a brood of smiling, curly-haired children.

Kallias will finish his training soon. I look forward to your return.

Laurent ]

 

_[ Sweet Majesty Laurent,_

_You have never spoken of children before. Would it be too forward for me to say that you would be an excellent father? Even better than Exalted, I think. Do not tell him I said that._

_Kallias is preparing to sit his final tests. He studies all night and leaves early in the morning without bothering to sleep or eat. I am reduced to the role of nagging lover._

_It will be over soon and I can return to your side. You may bury me in paperwork for a whole week if it pleases you._

_Eagerly yours,_   
_Erasmus ]_

 

[ Erasmus,

I have never thought of children before. I did not want them, and then I thought I should not have them, and now I don't know what I think anymore.

Damen loves children, and he is absurdly in agreement with you about my supposed paternal qualities. Have you both been at the griva?

Forget paperwork. I will take you riding over the hills of Arran. They say at night on the plains you can see showers of stars.

Do you ever think of children?

Laurent ]

 

_[ Laurent,_

_I have not thought of children. For my life to be my own is still a precious novelty. The mechanics of being a free man are a daily learning experience, and in some cases an internal battle. I often still feel like a child myself, learning the world anew. I do not know what I could pass on to any child of mine except confusion._

_I am still a poor rider. I will do my best not to disappoint you on these wonderful trips you have planned._

_E ]_

 

[ My lovely Erasmus,

Nothing you do could ever disappoint me.

L ]


End file.
